I see you, I watch you
by AnastaziaIngrid
Summary: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley have been best friends for nine years. See what happens when they finally reveal their true feelings for each other. WARNINGS: Slash and angst inside. Also referring to the male sex in feminine roles. Rated M to be safe.


This story was a quick thing I just had to get out. It's RW/HP slashy, so you are pre-warned. Don't come complaining to me because you didn't read my notes.

This story starts off as angsty, but has some sexy things woven throughout, and a slash scene at the end.

Obviously I don't own most of this story, only the relationship and the slash, but I make no money from this, so it doesn't matter anyway.

* * *

I see you.

* * *

I've always seen you. You've been the centre of my world for seven years.

We have fought together. Broken the rules together. Slept in tight spaces together. Killed horcruxes together.

I'm watching you with my sister. She loves you, as you love her, but neither of you love each other enough. You don't realise it's not the true all consuming love of another soul.

It breaks my heart to know that you don't love me like I love you. That you're not mine. That you never could be.

I let you both know that I'm going up to bed. I don't tell you that I'll be going to sleep with your image in my mind, and my seed spilled for you on my stomach.

In the morning, I wake to Ginny's quiet moans. I'm the only other person in the house, as everyone else is helping repair the school, or at work. I sigh. I long to be the one moaning underneath you.

In the kitchen I'm making breakfast for us. Simple eggs and bacon and toast. Coffee and orange and pumpkin juice. I can hear Ginny finish loudly. I grimace. This is the first time I've heard anything sexual going on between you two. I can't bear to ever hear it again.

I leave your breakfasts under a stasis charm, and head out to the garden with my own food. I can't look at you, with the knowledge that I want to be the one who cries out for you. Who makes you cry out in pleasure.

I'm de-gnoming the garden, trying my hardest to not think about the pleasure you bring to my sister. It's breaking my heart, knowing that she can have you and I can't.

I'm sweaty and smelly and dirty and gross.

You're standing behind me.

"Ron?"

I blink and turn around. "Harry?"

"Want some help with that?" He points to the gnomes climbing back over the hedge.

"Thanks Harry, but I'll be fine. Go spend some time alone." I brush you off, knowing that I can't bear to look at you.

You stand there for a second, and just blink slowly, like what I've said is hard to comprehend.

"Oh, ok. Erm, thanks for breakfast."

I turn around, "No problem Harry." I'm almost crying, because all I can think about is you and my sister writhing around in pleasure.

You mumble something I don't quite catch and walk away.

It's three in the afternoon. Only you me and Ginny are home. I decide to make dinner for everyone tonight as well. I go out in to the garden again, and pull up some potatoes and spinach. I grab some carrots and sweet potato, and an onion or two. There is a pumpkin the perfect size, so I bring that inside too. I set about peeling and roasting the vegetables. I pull up some seeded mustard, a French one, and some mayonnaise. I mix the three together, to get the perfect dressing. There are pork chops, enough for two each, if we wanted them. I set about marinading them.

It's six pm, and everyone is home. I let you all know that I'm about to finish cooking dinner.

I put the pork chops in the pan. They sizzle nicely, and start to cook themselves. I remove the cooked vegetables from the oven, where they've been kept warm. I drizzle the dressing over them, and add in the boiled eggs and the spinach. Within fifteen minutes, the food is finished, and I call you all to the table.

You're sitting next to me. I can feel your warmth. I can smell your delicious scent. You don't use any vanity potions. It's just the way you smell. You're driving me crazy.

I excuse myself from the table. I'm hard as can be after being in such close proximity to you. I think if I was near you for any longer, my whole being would just explode.

It's been a year. We've spoken at least once a week, but I still love you too much to see you with Ginny. To hear you talk about her. I live in my own house, and I love living alone, even if sometimes I am a little lonely. I visit Hermione often, and she doesn't talk about you to me, which is good. I'd go around a lot less often if she did. My family owls me often enough, and comes and visits, but none talk about you. I expect they think we're talking a lot more than we actually do. I can see Ginny's stomach getting bigger. I wonder, is she pregnant? I don't think I truly want to know the answer, lest it destroy what remains of my heart.

Another six months have passed. I've started dating Neville. I came out to my family, obviously. They were all pretty supportive, not that they wouldn't be. The wizarding world isn't as backwards as the muggle when it comes to affairs of the heart.

A month later, Neville and I are no more, and all I can think about is you. Neville and I decided we were better as friends, and still see each other as often as before we started dating. Still, you're all I ever think about. At work, at home, in the shower, in bed, during dates, and sex with other people.

* * *

I watch you.

* * *

You never notice, but I do it often. I stare at you, at your back, your arms, your chest, your arse.

I constantly watch you. I want you so much. I love you. I can't do anything about it though. I made that promise to Ginny, and until she dishonours me, I can't leave her. Sometimes I'm too good for my own good. I think the only good thing about dating her is that she reminds me of you so much. I can have sex with her, close my eyes, and pretend it's you. I always spill my seed when I think about you. I can't otherwise. I wonder what that says about me.

You bid us goodnight, and leave for your bedroom. There is nothing I want more than to follow you and proclaim my love for you as I fill you with my deliciously hard length. I stay by Ginny though, afraid that I'll ruin our friendship, and my relationship with Ginny over something you obviously don't feel back.

I watch you walk up the stairs, your hips swaying, making me want to grab on to you.

Ginny is waking me up with a warm mouth enveloping the hard on I acquired from dreaming about you. I fuck her in to blissful release, just as I hear you clunking around downstairs. I realise much too late that we didn't use a silencing charm.

Ginny and I arrive downstairs to find that you've made breakfast for us. You're nowhere to be found, but my breakfast is exactly the way I like it. I didn't realise you paid that much attention to me before.

I finish my breakfast, and leave Ginny to her own devices. I find you in the garden, viciously flinging garden gnomes out of the yard. I offer you help. You're weird today. Maybe you're just uncomfortable from possibly hearing Ginny. I mean, who wants to hear their sister being pleasured by their best friend? You turn your back to me.

"I'm sorry, I don't love her you know." I mumble under my breath. You still, but I'm sure you haven't heard me.

I'm watching you work in the garden. Ginny has gone out to run a few errands, and won't be back for about an hour. You're pulling up vegetables for what I'm assuming will be dinner.

Just watching you is making me ache for your body. I start rubbing myself over my clothing. I hide in a place where I can still watch you, and hide myself if someone happens to come in the house while I pleasure myself to you. Your muscles ripple under your tight shirt. I can see the sweat that has soaked through your shirt. I'm taking my time, imagining licking the sweat off of your skin. I am going to come soon, and hard. I start moaning a bit, and I don't want you to hear me. I can see one of the socks you were wearing earlier on the floor. I grab for it, and shove it in my mouth to muffle any sounds I make while I rub myself for you. The dirtiness and kinkiness of having your slightly sweaty sock in my mouth while I secretly pleasure myself to you forces me to come faster, and I still cry out quite loudly as I finish.

Ginny arrives back about five minutes before you're finished with the vegetables, and I jump at the chance to spend time with her, so that you won't figure what I've been up to. I don't think you even know she left.

Dinner is wonderful. I've been watching you work hard to prepare this all day, and the resulting food is amazing. I would gladly take you as my wife if I was going to be treated to this every night. Though I know I would take you as my wife even if you couldn't cook or anything. I would have you as my wife if only to hold you once. You seem really tense through dinner, and I'm trying to engage you, but you're doing your best to ignore everyone. You're excusing yourself from the table, and I want to follow you to see if you're ok, but Ginny is stopping me and telling me that you'll be ok, and that you're just tired.

We don't see each other much for the next year, and we hardly write. I feel bad not telling you that Ginny aren't together any more, but I figure that she's told you that she's pregnant with Dean's child. I'm desperate to spend time with you, but you don't seem to want much to do with me. I just wish you'd tell me what I did to make you not want to be near me any more. I'm continuously pretending to your family that we're talking more than we actually are, and Hermione is keeping me up to date on everything you, so that I'm not really lying. She tells me you've just come out to your family. I know it's not that big of a deal in the wizarding world, but I can't help but feel if I did the same, I would be judged and shunned.

Another six months pass, and I read in every single paper or magazine that you're dating Neville. I am so jealous of him that I am refusing to speak to him. Of course, he doesn't know that, but I'm still not talking to him. I wonder about the sex you two are having, and I constantly think about being the one to take your virginity. It consumes me, and no one seems to want to be around me because I'm perpetually angry. I start to see a muggle man, disguising myself before I do so that I'm not followed and outed before I want to be. He looks so much like you that it hurts my heart, but makes it so much easier for me to be taken by him.

Another month has passed, and I've broken it off with my muggle. I always felt empty when we were finished, like I really shouldn't have been sleeping with him. I am being told by Hermione that you and Neville decided you're better off as friends, and I decide that I'll start talking to him again.

I've decided that I'm going to out myself. It'll save me a lot of hassle, as opposed to being publicly outed in a magazine or newspaper without permission. I think I'll call Rita Skeeter and have her write up an article. Nothing too big I hope, but no one has really ever been able to stop Rita from embellishing details.

The article has been out for a month, and I've been getting constant offers for dates and sex. I've been on a few dates, and had sex with three different people, but still, all I can think about is you. The colour of your hair, and your freckles, and your muscles, and your tight waist and arse. Your strong legs and even your feet. I think of your smile, and the way your eyes twinkle when you're being mischievous.

Hermione is making me tea, as I sit at her table shaking and in tears. She sets down the warmed mug and some scones before taking a seat herself.

"What's wrong Harry?"

I sob loudly before I speak, "Hermione, I love him. I can't do it any more. I can't pretend that he hasn't been the centre of my life for the last nine years. He's the most amazing person I've ever met. I just. I can't imagine him going on a living a happy life without me."

She just looks at me for a second before responding. "Harry, you remember when he and Neville were dating don't you?"

"How could I forget?" I reply sarcastically, tears still streaming down my face.

"Do you know why they broke up?"

"No, how would I know? Ron and I hardly speak any more, and I didn't want to ask Neville."

"Well, it's because Neville realised that you had stopped speaking to him the moment He and Ron were announced as a couple. He realised you were jealous Harry, and he stepped away from Ron so that you could date him if you wanted."

"But Hermione, Ron doesn't like me like that. Just because he's gay doesn't mean he's interested in me. Why would he be? I'm just a scrawny git who's had a bit much good fortune in life."

She's looking at me again. Just looking, with no discernible expression. "Oh I don't know, but what could it hurt to ask him? Or talk about your feelings? That way, when you figure out what's going on on both sides, you can be friends or whatever."

I'm in a slightly upscale wizarding bar. It's been three days since Hermione and I spoke, and I can't bring myself to speak to you yet. I've decided to just get drunk and do it and see what happens from there.

* * *

I see you

* * *

I'm with Hermione, getting drunk at the three broomsticks. She asked me out for a drink because we simply haven't seen each other in ages. I honestly don't know what she is on about, because we saw each other last month, but I wanted a drink anyway, so I went along with it.

By ten thirty I am absolutely wasted. I haven't had the chance to drink so much in a long while, and I just let my inhibitions go. I'm completely uncaring as to who can see me.

We get in to a conversation about my love life, and if I'm interested in anyone. I'm confiding in her. Telling her that I've been in love with you since before I can even remember, but that I'm sad you'll never love me the same way, because we're just friends, and that's all you could ever see us as. She asks me why I haven't said anything to you. Why we haven't sorted this out so that we can be closer friends again. I don't have an answer for her, so she tells me to just go and tell you already, so everything can be fixed.

I apparate to my house, which is a massive feat considering the state I'm in. I want a shower, I reek of alcohol and really don't want to feel so crappy and dirty in the morning.

* * *

I watch you

* * *

I'm a little buzzed right now. I haven't had enough to drink so that I'm drunk, but I'm quite tipsy, and happy for it. I pop home, with a hard on like a haven't had in a while. You're still all I can think about, and in my intoxication, the reaction I have to even your memory is so much stronger than I've felt before.

I think I'll masturbate to you, again, with that sock I stole. You never did notice it was missing. I'm pretty comfortable, rubbing myself with long lazy strokes, while I smell your sock, still feeling kinky and dirty, even after almost two years of masturbating to it. I start to work myself faster, almost in to a frenzy, desperate to come as I can smell you. The relief never comes though. I just can't finish. I'm trying everything, but I just can't finish.

* * *

I see you

* * *

I can feel the warm water cascading down my back. The pleasant feeling of the water is making me hard, and I lazily start rubbing my cock. I'm pretty horny after drinking, and I conjure up images of you in various states of undress in my mind to masturbate to. Oh Merlin, I'm moaning your name and working myself faster, as I imagine your lips on my head, poised to take me in.

* * *

I watch you

* * *

I am so desperate for release. I really need to come, to spill my seed to the smell of you. I'm in the worst kind of limbo trying to orgasm, but I just can't get there. I'm so very desperate. Before I even know what's happened, I've apparated in to your house. I'm storming through to your bedroom and I can hear the shower running. In my haste, I barely register that I've got no clothes on, though I suppose it doesn't matter. I throw open the bathroom door to find you in full naked glory.

I breeze up to you, and before you even notice I'm there, my lips are on yours.

They're ridiculously soft and supple, and I never want to stop kissing you. I can feel you responding, but before you get much of a chance, I thrust my tongue in to your mouth and grab a hold of your cock at the same time.

I slowly stroke you, as I forcefully claim your mouth. You are trying to pull away, and after a moment I let you.

* * *

I see you

* * *

"Fuck me."

"What" You say.

"Fuck me Harry, take my cherry. Fuck me hard and deep, and don't let up. I want you so much. Fill me with your cock and come, and make me orgasm from your cock in my arse alone."

You're standing there, still holding my dick as if you've forgotten you're doing it.

"Please Harry. Please fuck me. I've needed you for so god-damn long. Just take me, now. Please."

* * *

I watch you

* * *

Before you can say another word, I've got you lifted up with your legs around me, and my prick lined up with your deliciously warm and inviting star. Before you can even register what's happened, I've shoved myself in to you up to the hilt.

You're moaning and panting, and I'm surprised you could take me without any pain.

You're so deliciously tight and warm around my shaft. I don't know how long I'll be able to last before I breed you. Distantly I realise we're getting soaked by the shower, but I don't particularly care.

Slowly I work myself in and out of you, for about a minute before you groan, and slam yourself down on to me. I take the hint and continue on hard and deep. You close your eyes and rest your head back on the wall for a second, before you jerk back up and look at me. You don't seem to want to look away, like you can't believe this is really happening.

I claim your mouth again, suckling on your tongue as I pound in to you. Suddenly, you stiffen. It's seems as if I've found your prostate. I slow and nudge against it again and again until I hear a guttural moan, and feel your boiling come shooting over my chest. The feeling of your tightness clamping down on me is enough to send me over the edge, and I roar as I breed you, filling you with my seed.

* * *

I see you

* * *

I can feel you shooting in to the deepest part of me, and it sets off a mini orgasm in me. I have never heard of such a thing happening, but I'm proud to have had it happen with you.

I can feel you still hard as a rock inside of me, and after a short pause I start grinding my hips down so that I can feed more of you in to me. I moan.

"I fucking love you. Oh Merlin, I love you." I groan out as I'm rocking on you.

As soon as I've said this, you slam up in to me and grunt.

"I fucking love you too."

I start to ride you hard, trying to bring as much pleasure as possible to your prick, trying to work out more come. Soon you start grunting, and I start moaning, and the second you shoot inside me again, I spray everywhere, managing to get myself in the face. I whimper a little in pure bliss as you finally drag your spent self out of me, and sink to the floor, unable to move for a while.

* * *

I watch you

* * *

"Marry me."

"Yes."

"Really, you'll really marry me?"

"Of course I will Harry. I've been in love with you since we were 11. I've never wanted anything more than I've wanted to be your wife, having you come home to me every day. Having dinner waiting for you, as well as a hot hole to release yourself in to. Looking after our children while you work, and telling them stories of the most wonderful man that ever lived. There will never be anything more that I want than to be your wife."

I'm smiling the biggest smile I've ever smiled before. "Oh Ron, I've always wanted to be your husband. I knew we were going to be together from the moment we met at kings cross. I've been fantasising about making you my wife for years. I want to provide for you, and take you travelling to the most exotic places. I want to make love to you in every city, in every country in the world. I want to have children with you, and watch them grow up with the most wonderful mother in the world. I want to never ever leave your side again. I love you so much."

"I love you too Harry. Hey Harry?"

"Yes my love?"

"Can we practice for children again now? I'm twitching in anticipation of you."

I'm hard in seconds, and I pull you on top of me, so that I can watch you work for your orgasm. The faces you pull are so beautiful. I sit up so that we're chest to chest, and hold you tight to me. We thrust up and down together, finding our rhythm.

I'm about to breed you again just as you orgasm all around me and scream out my name.

I pull you closer to me, and whisper in your ear that I love you.


End file.
